


Fillory Rules

by frankie_31



Series: Wild!Q ‘Verse [1]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: AU, M/M, fillory raised quentin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 08:24:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14101341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frankie_31/pseuds/frankie_31
Summary: An AU where Fillory stole Q before Jane Chatwin could set him on his path. Eliot and the other Brakebills kids still find their way to Fillory and the Beast is still trying to mess stuff up. Eliot meets a strange man in the woods who changes his view of Fillory.





	Fillory Rules

There’s a man in the tree. 

Well, it is Fillory, so there’s what is probably a man in the tree. Eliot peers up between the leaves and jumps when something drops towards him. A pale hands hangs limply from between two branches as the (probably) man sighs deeply. 

“It’s just such a-it’s such a shitty day,” he says forlornly. “I can’t remember why I’m up here, and I’m pretty sure if I get down I’ll forget that I was ever up.”

“...Right,” Eliot replies and squints up at the (almost sure) man. “Sounds like a real headache. I’ve actually got to be on my way. So, ciao.”

He turns to leave when the man slips out of the tree entirely, landing in a mopey clump beside Eliot. 

“I think I was waiting for you,” he says, looking up at Eliot. “I think I’m supposed to be with you.”

Eliot looks the man up and down. He’s barefoot, his feet dusted in mud. His cloak is made up soft-looking gray fur and his breeches and shirt are made of a shiny silver silk material. He’s got limp shoulder length hair and a very plain but charming face. He could potentially get it, Eliot decides. 

“Unless you mean biblically, I’m not sure you’d be of much assistance.” Eliot quirks his mouth up on one side. “I am enroute to borrow a mermaid’s comb and that feels like a one man mission. But thanks, hun.”

“Uh, you need a mermaid comb? That’s gonna be hard,” The man fiddles with the lining of his cloak and he looks at Eliot again. “I know how to get to their cove.”

Well, okay. That would be of some assistance. The man has a bleak, slump to his shoulders and Eliot is starting to feel like he’s kicking a puppy.

“Alright, I’ll allow you to assist me,” Eliot says and brandishes the map he was given. “This is what I have.”

The guy takes the map gingerly and holds it like it’s a dead fish. He looks at it closely and turns it upside down, squinting. 

“What is it?” Eliot asks and the man frowns at him. 

“I guess I can’t read.”

“Where you able to before?”

“I’m not sure,” he says. “I remember writing stuff? But that was a long time ago.” 

Eliot stifles the urge to slap a palm to his forehead. “Okay. Helpful. Can you take me to the cove or not?”

The man nods and hands back the map, then turns to walk into the woods. Eliot is pretty sure he’s going to get murdered by the saddest serial killer in the universe. 

They trek through foliage and forest for close to a half hour, it eventually melts away to grey dunes with crystalline plants growing sporadically about. 

The dunes glitter in the sun and the plants send rainbow prisms across it. Eliot is delighted at this new spectacular sight before him. Fillory never stops surprising him. His dusty companion looks very out of place among the sparkling desert as he trudges ahead of Eliot. 

Nestled in the middle of the dunes is an oasis. There are what appear to be palm trees made of diamond and fronds of glittering quartz and the water is a dark blue pit in the midst of an opalescent desert. 

“Hurts my eyes cove” the man says. 

Eliot is about to pity this poor illiterate man before he realizes he had read those words earlier. He pulls out the map and, sure enough, this oasis is called Hurts-My-Eyes Cove. Fillorians, while splendid, are a very literal people. 

Eliot adjusts his crown and begins down the dune towards the pit. The oasis waters are very still but he thinks he can see faint outlines deeper within. The man is trailing behind him, he looks nervous. 

As Eliot reaches the shore of the oasis, a bubblegum pink head pops up. The creatures skin is a pale fuscia but it’s eyes are pitch black. A second head pops up, this one has black hair and orange skin. They regard Eliot blankly and he bows. 

“Greetings, loyal Fillorians,” he says and the orange of them chirps. “Okay. Your High King requires an item from you.”

The pink one chirps back and tilts her head like a dog. Eliot begins to walk towards the water when the man grabs him roughly. 

“They don’t talk,” the man says as he pulls Eliot back from the water and Eliot gives into the urge to facepalm. “And they’re not gonna give you their comb. You have to cut it off.”

“Cut it off where?” Eliot exclaims and the mermaids make a creepy hissing noise at his volume. “Why can they not just hand it to me?”

“They aren’t...like grooming tools,” the guy says. “On their tails. They have combs up and down the sides.”

“Well,” Eliot says primly, crossing his arms. “Fuck.”

“You don’t even have a net,” the guy shakes his head. “This is gonna be super hard.”

“Fear not,” Eliot says and braces his feet in the sand. He begins a simple levitation charm on the pink mermaid, she watches him curiously and doesn’t fight against him as she rises from her inky pool. 

He knows a spell to cauterize any wounds, but he’s having second thoughts about making sushi from her combs as he hovers her above the shimmery dunes. She’s docile, lolling her head to look at him. 

“Their blood is acid,” his companion says. “If it gets on you it’ll burn you pretty badly.”

“How do you know?”

“I know a lot of things,” he says and pulls an axe from within his cloak. It looks ancient. The stone blade is chipped and the handle’s ribbon wrapping is faded with sunlight and age. “Rule One: Fillory Can and Will Hurt You.”

He swings his axe at the mermaid. 

***

Several screams and a few burns later, Eliot has a bright pink fan of mermaid comb and there’s a pissed, pink monster sulking in the bottom of her pool. 

They’re in the forest again when Eliot decides he’s more curious that diplomatic.

“So, why are you...um, living in trees? What’s your name?”

The man looks a little bemused at the question but he shrugs. “I’m Q. I wasn’t always in Fillory. I remember coming through my bedroom closet. One night the doors banged open, leaves filled my room and I knew where it led. Of course I went in. What kid wouldn’t? But Fillory never let me go. I think I was 8 when I came though? I had just read the first book.”

Q trails off, lost in memory and Eliot stays quiet.

“I almost died a few times. Lots of beasts in these woods. Fell out of a tree, well, no. The tree’s dryad dumped me out and I hit my head. I think I must have had some kind of brain sickness. I couldn’t see straight for days. Couldn’t remember where I was. Threw up a bunch. Now, stuff gets foggy sometimes. Like when you found me.”

“You said you were waiting for me,” Eliot says. “How’d you know to wait?”

“Rule Two: Fillory Takes You Where You Gotta Go. I felt like I should climb that tree, her dryad let me stay, you came along right after.”

“I see,” Eliot smiles. “What is Fillory telling you now?”

“I think I need to stay with you,” Q says and scratches his jaw. “She seems upset.”

“We are dealing with a failing of magic and a really fucking nasty Beast,” Eliot says and gestures with the comb. “That’s why I need this. Rumor has it that Ember loves these things.”

“That’s definitely a lie. Ember wants sex and little cakes.”

Eliot takes a moment to note that Q knows what sex is but not a concussion. Then the first part of what Q says hits him. 

“A lie, huh?” Eliot says and pauses on the trail. “How sure are you?”

“Ember is very vocal about his wants. I bring him stuff all the time,” Q says. “Any Fillorian knows what he likes. If I had to guess, I’d think someone was hoping those mermaids would kill you. If you’d gotten in the water they would’ve drowned you, like, immediately.”

“Huh,” Eliot says slowly and drops the mermaid comb. Tick had been pretty clear about how Eliot was supposed to retrieve the comb. “Gotcha.”

Q crouches suddenly, dragging Eliot with him and a bolt of magic slices into a tree behind them. 

“Shit,” Eliot snaps and Q shushes him. He digs his fingers into the ground and a glimmer of velvety green slips out of the earth and up his forearms, coiling in bright loops around his shoulders. Without a warning, he stands and whips the emerald light in the direction the magic came from. 

Eliot pops up as well, dread filling his stomach as he recognizes the atracker. 

It’s the Beast. 

The Beast looks a little windswept, his moths are buzzing loudly. But he’s still marching toward them with purpose and Eliot tries to pull Q away by his arm. 

Q is rooted in place, the green magic is wound around him like armor. The Beast shoots another spell at him but it’s reflected almost half-heartedly, Q flings a vine of magic at the Beast with a roar.

In a flutter of moth wings, the Beast teleports away from the vine. He vanishes with a snap, leaving behind an eerie silence. Q is panting and the green magic slithers back into the ground. 

“Pardon me, but what the fuck?” Eliot asks loudly. 

“Oh,” Q says. “Jeez, I’m tired. Sometimes Fillory lets me use her magic. But I’m also really sleepy after—“

Q drops like a load of bricks in the dirt. His face is smushed against some moss and a little patches of flowers blossom spontaneously where his hands have fallen. Eliot is spectacularly bewildered. 

He weighs the idea of carrying Q back to Whitespire and decides he should save his juice in case they run into anything else. So, he pulls Q’s fur cape off his unconscious body, lays it on the ground and sits carefully on it. 

His pants are brocade. They can’t get dirt on them. Q’ll understand. 

He does a small hex to summon a rabbit and sends a message to Margo.

“Safe. Found new toy.” 

***

Q comes to shortly with a stretch that bares his stomach. Eliot fleetingly appreciates the view and then unfolds off the ground. His left foot is asleep and he is anxious to be on his way. He has a possible coup to stifle. 

“We gotta go to Ember,” Q says, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Right now. I don’t think he understands what Martin is doing.”

“Martin? Wait, the Beast is Martin?”

“Of course,” Q says and he starts to climb a tree. “Let me get us a ride.”

Eliot is still pretty spectacularly bewildered, but a part of him senses that Fillory has decided to throw her proverbial hat in the ring. Q reaches the upper branches and lets out a shrill, loud whistle. He climbs back down quickly and picks his cape up off the ground, slinging it over his shoulders. 

“They should be here soon,” he says. “Don’t be mean to them. I’m not sure if they can talk but I’m pretty sure they can understand English.”

“What are ‘they’, exactly? God, you are the Fillorian travel agent of my dreams. I didn’t even realize I could just go see Ember,” Eliot says. It feels like they might have a chance at winning this thing. 

His question is answered by the sound of great wings flapping. Two giant Pegasi float down through the trees. They’re the size of Clydesdales and Eliot covers his mouth with his hands. They’re both gorgeous, black as night with silvery wings. One whinnies and tosses it’s shining mane. 

“Thank you, friends,” Q says and clambers aboard one like a monkey.

“Yes, thank you,” Eliot says and bows to them. He does his best to gracefully climb aboard. It’s been a hot minute since he’s ridden a horse. Apparently, Fillory is all about dragging his tragic backstory front and center. While Eliot mopes on a childhood wasted, the Pegasus beats it’s powerful wings and launches them skyward. 

Being up this high is terrifying and wonderful, he remembers that from being a goose. But this is nothing as mundane as being a goose. He feels like he’s riding Fillory itself on top of this magnificent beast. 

He can hear Q hooting in joy and he allows himself to grin against the wind. Remembering how to ride a horse is apparently as easy as remembering to ride a bike. And Eliot was a great horseman.

They dip through clouds and under a flock of pixies. The pixies flit happily in the sunlight and spit little sparks at Eliot when he reaches a hand up towards them. The Pegasus looks back at him with an almost sneaky look, then it’s surging higher and higher. Fillory is a patchwork quilt below him, he feels light headed from the altitude and joy. 

The Pegasus whinnies again and then they’re diving down at a neck-break speed. Eliot clings to the creatures mane, his body lifts off its broad back and he feels almost like he’s flying too. It is mind-numbingly exhilarating. Better than coke, way better than adderall. He thinks he’s screaming but he really can’t hear anything over the wind shrieking in his ears. They’re bearing down on the ground without any sign of stopping and Eliot’s heart is in his throat. At the last possible moment, the Pegasus pulls up and they land in a rough gallop. 

The Pegasus rears back and lets loose a brilliant neigh. It makes Eliot laugh out loud and he can feel every nerve in his body. He slides off the creature and almost falls when he lands on his feet. His legs are rubbery and he leans against its side. 

“I am Nightwithers,” it says in a voice like rustling grain. “My herdmate is Biscuit.”

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Eliot says and pats Nightwither’s neck. “I haven’t had a ride that good since Spring Break ‘09.”

Q and Biscuit land nearly beside them with nowhere near the amount of fuss Eliot and Nightwithers had. Q gives Biscuit a hug before he hops off her back. They’re outside a tomb, it’s covered in dead plants and weeds. The Pegasi fly off without further ado and leave Eliot and Quentin staring at a stone piece with a handprint carved into it. There’s a rust colored stain in the middle of it’s palm. 

Q pulls out his ax to nick his hand and he quickly presses it against the stone. 

Eliot is goddamn lost at this point, but his heart is still thrumming in his chest from the ride and he charges right after Q. 

It stinks in the tomb. Really badly. Ember stinks. And is creepy. And for some reason, gives them a jar of cum. 

“Great,” Eliot says holding the jar away from him. It’s still warm. “Love it.”

“That’s really gross,” Q says and Ember shrugs. 

“My godly fluids will give you the power to end Martin Chatwin’s reign for good. Combined with my dear Q’s natural affinity to the land’s magic, I dare say you will make short work of our beastly little problem,” Ember giggles and waves them away. 

With a pop, they find themselves outside the gates of Whitespire. There’s a pause, then the guards scrabble to play the horns heralding their kings arrival. 

“Follow me,” Eliot says and Q pulls his cloak tighter around himself. The jar of cum is still so, so very warm.

***

Julia knows Q. Knew him. Whatever. 

He thinks he might remember her. He remembers dark curls on the pages of _Fillory and Further_ and the scent of pencil shavings when she hugs him. She cries against his pooka fur cape and he hugs her back as tight as he can. 

She mourned him, he realizes. Whoever he was as a kid, she loved that boy and grieved for him. He can at least hold her. 

Meanwhile, El is giving a quick recap to Margo, Josh and Penny. 

“I guess when he was a kid Fillory swallowed him up and never let him go,” he says and Margo smirks. 

“I bet you’re volunteering for his next swallowing, am I right?” She asks and rejects Josh's proffered fist bump. “He’s pretty yummy for a literal feral kid.”

“I can’t believe he stood up to the beast,” Penny says. “We’ve been having our asses handed to us every time.”

“And get this, the Beast? It’s Martin fucking Chatwin. Not Pluvvor.”

“That poor guy,” Josh says. “What happened really messed him up.”

“We can feel bad for Martin,” Julia says, placing a hand on Eliot’s shoulder. Her eyes are red but she seems a little more at peace. Q joins his other side quietly. “But the Beast is not that hurt child. He made the decisions a long time ago to hurt people over and over.”

“Can we really take him out now?” Penny asks. 

“He’s got some serious juice,” Eliot says, nodding at Q. He plonks the jar-o-cum on the table. “And this is some serious juice.”

“So, who is gonna choke down that goat batter?” Josh asks and they all frown at the jar. 

Hands wrap around the jar and it’s chugged in a few swift moves. The empty jar thuds on the table and Julia wipes her mouth on her sleeve. 

“Bottoms up, bitches,” she says and her eyes glow bright green for a split second. 

“Well damn, girl,” Penny says and pats her on the shoulder. 

“That is called taking one for the team,” Margo says and laughs. “Let’s go gank us a Beast.”

***

It’s over faster than it starts. 

Q uses his Fillory magic to hold him in place and Julia just destroys him with the Leo blade. 

He’s engulfed in white flames, incinerated in seconds. A pile of pale ash is all that remains. Julia kneels beside it, mournful. A life was lost, but hopefully it was for the right reason. 

She sees something in the ash. 

Fingers shaking, she pulls a pair of tortoiseshell, horn-rimmed glasses from the pile. She clutches them to her chest and the tears finally spill from her eyes. 

They’re pearlescent, glowing, shimmery. They flow like a river, sinking into the earth. The others feel a heaving, like a heartbeat under their feet. She cries for what feels like hours until finally her tears are spent and she’s exhausted. Penny has moved behind her at some point and she rests into his embrace. 

A trickling sound draws their attention to the wellspring, there are rivulets of water flowing from under the door. 

Eliot marches over to it, wrenching open the door. The wellspring is overflowing with that same liquid Julia had wept. 

“Can I just say,” he says, turning to the group. “We are currently two for two. Suck it, Fillory.”

“Is that really the speech you’re going with?” Josh asks and they dissolve into only mildly hysterical giggles. 

The Earthlings of Fillory are heralded as they walk into Whitespire. 

High King Eliot, crowned unceremoniously by himself on that cliff. 

High Queen Margo, the Destroyer. 

King Josh, the Highest King.

Queen Julia, the Brightest Witch of Her Age.

Penny, the bravest Traveler.

And Q, the wild human-turned-Fillorian. 

In the coming weeks, the children of Earth slowly win over the native Fillorians. It’s in no small part thanks to Q, he speaks their language. He can read the ever swirling stars above, he can soothe the unicorns back into their stables when they get loose. 

They trust his word and his faith in the High King. The crops flourish with the filling of the wellspring and there’s a kind of Renaissance of magic in Fillory. 

It’s perfect. The best reign since High King Rupert, Tick assures them. They end up firing Tick. 

They have a Fillorian liaison now. 

***  
“I really appreciate you doing this,” El says bowing. 

Nightwithers bows in return and Biscuit lips Eliot’s hair. They’re on the roof of Whitespire and Eliot’s cape rustles in the wind. 

Finally, Q arrives. He’s still in that funny fur and silk outfit, but he now has a shiny new axe. 

It had been a gift from the people of Loria for his hand in fixing the wellspring. 

El crosses the roof to meet him and reaches for his hands. “I’m glad you came.”

“Of course, Eliot. What’s going on?”

“I finally got some time and I wanted to ask you a favor.”

“Anything, my king,” Q says and he pushes past Eliot’s hands to hug him. 

Eliot takes a moment to press a kiss against Q’s head. They’d discovered that Q was very touchy-feely around the third day of him being glued to one of their sides. 

(“I haven’t hugged another person in like a million years,” he said against Penny’s chest. “Forgot how great it feels.”

“Yeah,” Penny replied through gritted teeth and, at Julia’s passionate hand motions, hugged him in return. “No problem.”)

“I want to see your Fillory. I’m Jake Sulu, you’re Neytiri,” he says and pulls back a little. “Our friends agreed to help.”

Q smiles and greets their Pegasi friends warmly. They appear to discuss the travel plans and then Q is waving him over. 

Fillory is a wonderful mixture of Lovecraft and Lewis and Eliot can’t believe it’s his. They visit talking kangaroos, a village of dormice and a giant turtle that threatens gravely to kill them. 

“He’s just kidding,” Q said as they flew away. “I think.”

They visit a land where the water tastes like root beer and a forest with smoke that absolutely gets them high. They lay in the grass of a nearby field, laughing in the afternoon light. 

“The Flying Forest,” Eliot giggles and rolls on his side. “Thank god for Fillory.”

“I got lost here for like a week one time,” Q says and laces his fingers together on his stomach. “Only got out because a really rude badger chased me away. I guess I’d walked through his garden every day. I ate so many of his carrots.”

“That’s amazing,” El says and smiles over at him. “And ridiculous. Kind of like your outfit.”

“Hey, I like this outfit,” Q says and smiles back. “It was a gift. From one of my only friends here.”

“Tell me about them,” El prompts. 

“She was a spider. A giant one. Her name was Itsy. I got stuck in her web and she liked me enough not to eat me,” Q closes his eyes. “She made me this suit and helped me tan a pooka hide for the cape.”

“Itsy the Tailoring Spider. I love it,” Eliot laughs. “I’m sorry for making fun of it.”

“No, it’s okay,” Q says. “I probably should change it up. It’s just one of the only times Fillory was kind to me. She’s a beautiful land. But she’s dangerous.”

“You must have been so lonely,” El says and sits up. “I’m sorry.”

“I would do it all over again,” Q answers. “Fillory was made for me. And I for her.”

He looks so peaceful laying the grass, feet bare, bluebells around his head and his eyes shut. 

Eliot can’t help it. 

He leans down and kisses him. Q makes a small surprised noise but then he leans up into the kiss. He’s unpracticed, messy and so fucking sweet Eliot’s toes curl. He gathers Q against his chest, pressing tiny kisses to his mouth and his nose and his forehead. 

“You’re amazing,” Eliot says, the tranquility of the fading high making him too honest. “You saved my kingdom. You saved my life.”

“You saved me, too,” Q says and sits up. He puts his hands on Eliot’s jaw and kisses his brusquely. “I was so alone and for so long. I didn’t even know what I needed.”

They kiss in the sunshine for a long while. The Pegasi take off at some point and their kisses heat up. 

Eliot feels like Q gave him some of the wild, like it soaked into his blood. He tears off his overcoat, reverently unties the tiny knots that lace Q into his shirt, kisses every patch of bare skin that’s revealed. They’re rolling in the bluebells, fighting to be on top and rutting like animals. 

They’re tangled together at the end, absolutely naked for the world to see. Q is breathing hard, head on Eliot’s chest. Q listens to his heartbeat and smiles. 

Rule Three: Fillory Loves Q.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the discord chat for answering all my dumb questions.


End file.
